My Brother's Keeper
by Jax118
Summary: Third story in the WMC series. Dean is badly injured. Sam, along with three other people, have been captured by unknown people with an unknown endgame. John, Bobby, Meg and Castiel are joined together to do anything they can to save the two Winchester brothers. What happens when the enemy is finally revealed? Have his plans changed now that he's also trapped on the island?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or LOST.**

Azazel smiled wide as he allowed the sensation of victory to wash over his new body. This is what it felt like after a plan came together successfully. It's what he felt every time he effectively managed to feed his blood to an infant, even if he did have a few instances under his belt where a mother had to burn on the ceiling for her perceived protectiveness.

It was one thing to have all the cards stacked in your favor and manage a win; he was used to those odds working out for him. This was so much better. This was the exact opposite of those instances with the same results at the end. What had started out as an attempt to take out the eldest Winchester and secure Sam all to himself while they were stuck on the same airplane had ended with him being forced to abandon the body he had carefully procured as their plane fell apart and crashed.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been quick enough with his escape.

He'd woken up in a tropical location and found himself in a new body, which momentarily confused him since he didn't remember taking the time to possess somebody else. It wouldn't have mattered to him, a meatsuit was a meatsuit was a meatsuit, but he could feel that his powers were severely limited in this body. That wouldn't do. His first thought was to abandon it, as well, and find something better, but his struggled attempt to escape his flesh and bone confine had been in vain. He was trapped.

While his latest body felt like it was almost entirely powerless, he could still feel the power that emanated from the jungle floor and slowly trailed up into the sky. It was almost visible to him and he knew without a doubt that this was no ordinary jungle. No matter which direction his vessel walked, he could feel the barely sustained power thrum at the bottom of his feet. As impotent as he felt, that thrum anchored him to some semblance of normalcy and he used it as a beacon to carry him onward.

Despite the circumstances, in his mind, you didn't bring down an entire operation just because the current office was unusable. There was no way in hell that he would allow over thirty years of planning and action to derail everything he had worked so hard for. He couldn't feel the presence of any other demons in the vicinity, so he would have to improvise. After all, what was a demon, but a human whose soul had been twisted and charred after decades or centuries of constant torture.

His saving grace came in the form of a desperate man that possessed the power he had spent a lifetime yearning for, only to realize that he was also staring down his own inevitable death.

If Azazel hadn't been stuck on this damn island, he would have made it a point to speak to Crowley about sending one of his crossroads demons to negotiate with Ben Linus. An additional ten years of life would have been an easy trade-off for hell to get its hooks into this man's soul. He truly felt that, in the end, there wouldn't be much that needed to be done to twist it into a demonic creature.

He grinned widely down at the smaller man in question before he turned his attention back to the bank of outdated monitors illuminated in the dark room. They both stood shoulder to shoulder and watched their unconscious captives, one with an aura of suspicion and the other with an aura of smug satisfaction.

Sam Winchester and Jack Shephard had both been placed in almost identical, yet sequestered viewing areas inside the Hydra Island's facilities. Kate Austen was laid out onto the tile floors in the communal showers outside of the station and Sawyer was haphazardly throw into one of the empty outdoor cages that the Dharma Initiative had once used to house their polar bears.

"I probably shouldn't admit this to you, but I feel extremely giddy right now," Azazel spoke up truthfully. Despite the air of casualness he constantly tried to project, Ben could hear the obvious glee in his voice and couldn't help but smile wanly back. "This couldn't have gone any better. Well done to you and your people."

Ben nodded his head in appreciation before he turned back to the monitors and pointed out the doctor on the screens. "I read through some of Jack's files that my people obtained. He truly is one of the best surgeons qualified to operate on my tumor," he admitted with a wry smile. The smile vanished as he looked up at Azazel blandly. "How did you manage to ensure that he was one of the people that ended up on this island?"

"You're actually questioning the miracle that I provided for you?" the demon chastised back sarcastically. He shook his head as Ben had the grace to appear sheepish at the rebuke before he let out an affected sigh. "That seems to be in poor taste, Ben."

"Please don't mistake my question for disrespect. I'm truly appreciative of your miracle," he quickly reassured the demon. "I even held up my end of the bargain." He pointed to the screen that contained Sam's image as Azazel smiled deeply. His yellow eyes shined victoriously at the reminder as an unexpected shudder ran down Ben's diseased spine.

"That you did, and splendidly. The capture of Sam Winchester and the demise of Dean Winchester is truly a win for our side. The end of the modern day Cain and Abel with John Winchester nowhere near to muck things up."

Henry ducked his head at his angel's mistaken belief before he quickly schooled his features. After all, it wasn't truly Ben's fault that Dean Winchester still lived. From what he knew, Dean was badly injured in Michael's attack and his injuries were adequate enough that they could fulfill their work before the elder brother even had the time to look for Sam. All would be well for them, this minor detail meant nothing. "Will there be other angels that join you to assist with your crusade?" Henry asked.

The demon almost laughed at the naivety that leaked from this man. Yes, it had come as a complete surprise to learn that he was trapped in a place that he couldn't even fully comprehend, but to realize that other people already occupied this place had been amazing luck. Upon his discovery of them and their enigmatic leader, he'd simply used his natural demonic charisma and spun a series of lies that painted his endgame into such a righteous light that Ben Linus had immediately jumped on board with his assistance. The promise and delivery of medical help for his spinal tumor had just been icing on the cake.

"This place is shielded from the other angels," the demon lied. "This is the reason why we need Sam Winchester to help us."

"But, how can HE help us?"

The demon held up one hand and then produced a small vial from behind his back with the other that was filled with a thick red substance that coated the clear glass from the interior. "We need to inject him with this. Preferably before he wakes up."

Henry took the proffered vial and examined it in his hands for a few moments before his eyes narrowed and he glanced up at the demon before him. "This looks like blood."

"It is," Azazel casually confirmed as Ben's eyes widened comically at the new information. "More specifically, it's my blood. Since my brother angels are unable to come to this island, it falls on me to ensure that Sam Winchester is ready to help me as I need him. This blood will ensure that."

"But, I can help you," Ben argued. "Why don't I inject it into myself?"

The demon fought the urge to roll his eyes and let out an irritated sigh instead. Humans would always be a nuisance to him. He wouldn't even have involved their young in his plans if Samuel Colt hadn't warded the Devil's Gate in Wyoming so strongly that no demon would ever be able to approach it for miles. Ben Linus had the perk of being useful in a useless situation and, therefore, hadn't been burned alive by now.

"My blood would likely kill you," the demon answered carefully. "Your body and blood would reject it and I won't allow that to happen. Sam, on the other hand, is a genetic match. My blood will not only improve him, but make him strong enough to stand beside me. And since we're going to inject it straight into his blood, it should take effect almost immediately. He'll be in peak condition for what we need him for."

Ben stared back down at the vial of blood in his hands with an odd expression on his face. The demon interpreted it as jealousy and was pleased to note how devoted Ben was to his delusions of what Azazel claimed to be. He still needed Ben and Ben's people, and to have their leader's undivided devotion made things much simpler. Ben slowly nodded his head as his mouth twisted into a grimace before he handed the vial back to Azazel. "Ok, now that that's settled, I want Juliet to administer this to Sam immediately. Once she's done, I'd like that daughter of yours to take care of him during his stay with us. Have her see to anything that he needs."

"Wait, what?" Henry objected in shock. Azazel turned to the smaller man and was surprised to see defiance on his features as he shook his head back and forth. "No, that is not happening. Why would you ask for Alex to oversee him? There are plenty of other people here that I can get to look after Sam Winchester instead."

"I don't want any other people to handle this," the demon argued back as his temper flared. He stared down hard at the man before him and matched his expression of defiance. Yes, this was a minor annoyance, but he was a demon and unused to being told no by anyone, especially a little piss-ant like Ben Linus. "Look, if this situation isn't acceptable to you, I can leave right now and release everybody, but that includes Jack. If the injustice of forcing your daughter to play chambermaid is worth more than your own life, just say the word and this ends now."

Ben's tense features relaxed at the threat and he shrank back in on himself as he seemed to think his angel's words over for a moment. The defiant light in his eyes died down as his shoulders slumped forwards and he nodded his head in agreement. As the demon watched the fight leave him, he smiled wide and realized that this man didn't have to kiss a red-eyed creature to hand over his soul. He'd already done it.

* * *

Before Sam could even register the dull pain and grogginess that he knew came from being drugged, he noticed the concrete. This wasn't the hatch that he had become familiar with. This room was colder and more dated. While he had been laid out on what looked like an old army cot, the walls and floor that surrounded him were all made of bland concrete.

He slowly raised his body into a seated position and couldn't help but let out a deep groan as more of his natural senses returned to him. Correction, they didn't so much return to him as they just slammed headfirst into his conscious self and forced him to catalog just how wrong his body felt. His head felt like it had been torn open and stuffed with cotton before being crudely sewn back together. His stomach felt like it was lined in lead and all he wanted to do was throw up the meager contents inside. His limbs felt too heavy to support themselves and he distinctly became aware of a sharp pain that flared to life in the crook of his arm.

He took a moment to center himself and rested his forearms on his knees as he breathed in and out deeply to quell the nausea he still felt. As he slowly lifted his head, he finally noticed the cotton ball taped down on his inner arm. It looked like the sort of thing that a nurse would use right after you received a shot or donated blood. His eyes narrowed at the small object and his mind tried to piece together all of the moments that were hazy to his memory.

He'd been out cold for long enough to be placed in a foreign room. His entire body had been sore, upon regaining consciousness, while his head had been foggy and his stomach had been queasy. All of those observations added together with the cotton ball taped over the spot where a vein would be in his arm and his anger grew immensely. They'd drugged him. Without his own awareness to protect himself, anything could have been done to him. The thought made his stomach turn even sourer.

He glanced around at his surroundings and noticed for the first time that he was all alone in this room; nobody had been placed in here with him. Were the others drugged as well? Were they even ok?

Who were these people? This unknown group of people had fooled all of the survivors and now they were paying the price for their ignorance. Four of them had been captured and Dean was still injured. The only relief he felt was that it would be a while before Dean would find out about the events surrounding Sam's current predicament, and hopefully he'd be back on their side by then.

He reached down and tore off the offending cotton ball before he rubbed his fingers over the reddened skin. His eyes narrowed in consternation as he stared down at his arm before he brought it closer to his eyes and pulled at the skin to make it as taut as possible. Two puncture marks…not one. His arm fell back to his side heavily as he tilted his head in confusion. Why had he been injected twice? Maybe it was just because whoever had done the first injection hadn't found a vein. Maybe it's because he was injected with more than just one substance.

"Oh God…why am I arguing with myself about this? Who cares?" Sam growled. His throat objected deeply to the hoarse level of his voice after being unused for so long and he instinctively placed a weak hand on his neck with a wince.

"I brought you some water for that throat," a voice spoke up contritely. Sam's head shot up so quickly that he had to close his eyes to fight off a dizzy spell before he reopened them. At the far end of the room, next to an open steel door was a young woman with a tray clutched tightly in her hands. She smiled kindly over at him before she turned to a table behind her and set the tray down to arrange the food better, which left Sam to stare at her back.

He stood as he realized that the door she had entered through was still open and quickly strode towards it to make an escape as he collided solidly with something and fell backwards on his ass. He looked up and narrowed his eyes as he finally noticed the overhead lights glint off of the clear window that was installed halfway through the room. A muffled noise sounded on the other side and he looked over at the woman's back as it shook with barely restrained laughter.

"I guess that was a testament to the cleaning powers of Windex," she chided playfully as she continued to arrange the food on the tray in front of her. Sam's annoyance rocketed at her playful tone as he stood back up, brushed himself off and placed both hands solidly on the glass. It didn't feel like normal glass. It felt rougher than normal glass. Stronger.

"I brought you some food to go with the water."

Sam glanced over at the girl and saw that she had leaned against the table behind her and watched his actions as he shook his head at her attempts at levity. "I'm not hungry," he growled. He glanced back over at her and smiled back just before he balled up one fist and swung as hard as he could at the glass. Nothing…from her or the glass. It was still intact in front of him and she hadn't so much as flinched or changed her position. No wonder she was so calm, she knew that she was safe from him no matter what he did.

"Where am I?" Sam asked her as she turned around and grabbed the tray. She stepped away from the large glass wall and knelt down next to a door Sam hadn't seen yet to the side and opened a tiny slot at the bottom before she slid the tray into his cell. Sam immediately stepped over the food, grasped the handle and pulled, cursing deeply when it remained closed.

"I hope you realize, now, that they covered all their bases with you," the woman spoke up. She pointed behind her to a camera with a red light that shined out against the darkness of the corner it was installed in. "Also, they're watching you, but can't hear you. So, try not to give them anything that they could use against you."

She nodded at Sam's shocked face and turned to walk back to the open door before she spun around one more time. "By the way, my name's Alex." She watched Sam's brow furrow at her introduction before she smiled again and turned to leave the room completely.

Sam watched her retreat in confusion. Why had she warned him about being watched but not being heard? Maybe she was a prisoner too. Maybe somebody that had earned more freedom than himself, the Toot-Toot of the Others. He took an exhausted seat on the cot he had woken up on and glanced over at the food she had left with a grimace. His stomach turned just thinking about food, but he had to admit that the small cup of water perched next to the sandwich would do wonders for his dry throat.

He reached out his hand to push himself up as the cup of water flew from the tray and crashed into the concrete wall behind him with a loud thud. He turned and stared at the water spot on the wall before he picked up the cup that had fallen onto his cot and held it, in shock. He stared down at the small item before his eyes strayed to his left hand, the one had held out as his stomach rolled again. What in the hell had just happened?

* * *

"I would have just stuck to peanut butter and jelly if I'd known you didn't like grilled cheese," Alex spoke up as she nodded down at the cold and forgotten food on the tray where she had left it hours before. "The soup's canned, though."

"Yeah, I'm sure they would have been real delicious," Sam spat at her as he kept his attention on the cup still in his hands. Strange things that he couldn't begin to explain had been happening to him for months now. He'd dreamt of Jessica's death and then watched in horror as his nightmares unfolded on a ceiling above him. He could feel things, sometimes, that led him down a path he hadn't even considered. This was the first time something physical had happened to him. He was intrigued, but also frightened.

"You know, those things are usually more useful when there's something inside of them," the girl spoke up again. Sam, once again, rolled his eyes at this girl's attempt to engage him before he set the cup down and sneered over at her.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" he snapped as he held his hands out in front of himself helplessly. "What? It's not enough that I'm stuck here, but now I have to socialize with one of my captors? Forgive me if I take a hard pass at that notion."

Alex watched him in amused silence before she shrugged her shoulders and leaned back against the same table she'd leaned against before. "I think you're boring them. I figure there's only so much they can take of you staring at a cup for hours on end. Frankly, the way they keep expecting you to do something is like they're trying to figure out who the Mother is when we're only like six episodes in."

Sam's head tilted in confusion to her reference as she let out a sheepish chuckle. "Ooops…I forgot, plane crash. You don't know what How I Met Your Mother is."

Sam's eyes widened as he realized that she was talking about a television show he had seen commercials about in a few of the motel rooms he and Dean stayed in during cases. How was that possible? She had basically just admitted and confirmed that these people had some means of communication outside of the island. Why were they here, then? Why wouldn't they help the people from his plane crash get home if they were able to or at least send messages to their loves ones that they were alright?

"Anyways, I was coming in here at a request to set up these monitors so you could see your friends and know that they were safe. Is that alright?" She stopped speaking and nodded over to a bank of monitors that Sam had noticed and written off as outdated and not functional. Was she being serious? She would actually allow him to see his friends? What if it was a trick? What if they had been recorded hours before and he was shown footage of that while they were currently being tortured? "Sam? Is that alright?"

Sam bit his tongue to stop himself from snapping at her optimistic tone and simply nodded his head as she smiled wide and walked over to the monitors to work on their set up. She glanced back over her shoulder at him once and caught him staring at her before she turned back to the machines to work. "You look especially pissed off at me," she told him wryly.

"It's not just you," Sam assured her against his better judgment. "It's your entire group. Let's see how cheerful you manage to look when you've been taken hostage away from your family and friends and then we'll talk, ok?"

"I had nothing to do with your capture," she shot back. "I was simply asked to look in on you and to see to any requests you made, that's all. Don't punish me for following orders."

"Yeah, sure…I've got a request for you," Sam bit out. "Let me go."

"I actually have to run all of your requests by them, first," she told him as she pointed up at the camera. "Maybe I'm wrong, but I have a feeling they'd deny that one."

"Son of a bitch!" Sam yelled as he hurled the cup he had been studying against the glass across from him. "Who are you people? What the hell do you want from us? From me?"

Alex stopped what she was doing and glanced over at the camera she had already pointed out before she let out a deep breath and pulled out a single wire. The red button immediately dulled as she continued to work at the counter. "I don't know why they want you, ok? They just told me to make sure that you stay comfortable." The joviality of her tone had dropped and she spoke with a more serious quality.

Sam stood up from his spot on the cot as she frantically waved him back down. "They may not be able to hear you, but they can see the both of us and once they realize that the camera's off, they're gonna come in here and I want it to look like we weren't aware of it, ok?"

Sam nodded his head even though she couldn't see and slid back down into a seated position. "Did they capture you too?"

"No, I was born and raised on this island. My dad is the leader of our group."

"Wait, your dad is Henry?" Sam seethed.

She glanced over at him, confusion etched onto her features as she shook her head. "What? No…my dad's name is Ben. You gotta be careful with him, Sam. He locked up my friend Karl, just because he thought we were more than friends. I don't know what he's capable of or what his plan is for you. He's working with someone I've never seen before. His eyes are…"

"ALEX!"

Alex jumped in shock as a man barked out her name before he walked into the room through the lone door that she had come in from moments before. He barely graced Sam with a glance, but Sam recognized him as Tom, the man from the deck with the smug smile and fake beard. "The camera feed cut out on us a few moments ago."

Sam had to bite back a laugh as Alex's eyes widened dramatically and she glanced up at the camera in a panic. "I told my dad that I didn't know all of the mechanics on this panel too well. Oh geez, I hope I didn't break something permanently."

Tom smiled down at her affectionately as he seemed to buy her innocent act and leaned over the console in order to plug the lone wire she had pulled out back in. "It's alright sweetheart. I'm sure you tried your very best."

She smiled up at his condescension and leaned forward to give him a big hug that she used as a cover to roll her eyes at Sam as Tom faced away from him. Sam couldn't help himself but to smile back at her as Tom returned the hug before he let go of her and watched as she left the room. The smile completely slipped from his face as he turned to the bank of monitors and finished the work Alex had begun until they came to life before them. Sam immediately stood up from his cot and walked as close as he could get to them so he could see with his own two eyes that everybody was alright.

"Every prisoner is allowed a little TV time, right?" Tom laughed at him before he turned and left Sam alone in the room as the door banged closed behind him.

Sam sneered after him. From the way he had acted on the dock up to his sarcastic comments and condescending treatment of Alex, he would really love to put him towards the top of his revenge list.

* * *

Nobody had come to check on Sam for several hours after Tom and Alex left his cell, but he still knew that he was being watched. That camera ignited a flame of paranoia inside of himself that he didn't like. It made him question every move he made before he even made it.

He'd made the decision to finally search through every inch of his cell that he could, but then he was nervous that anything he found would be used against him or confiscated, so he abandoned that idea. He'd considered using the time to his advantage and just working through an old training routine that he remembered his father hammering into him and Dean years before, but then he was nervous that they would know the full valor of his strength and stamina and have a formidable weapon against him. As he questioned every action, he just took another seat on the cot and thought through things in his mind, the only place nobody else could invade. He had nothing but time to kill and plenty of things to think about. Mostly, he thought about his brother's injuries and allowed the guilt to stab at him as he pictured Dean's reaction when Hurley explained to him what had happened to their group.

He thought about the injustice of Michael being allowed to leave the island with his son after the acts he had committed in order to make his escape. Those thoughts were the only identifier he had to ensure himself that he was INDEED being kept prisoner by the bad guys…by monsters. Anybody that rewarded murder and attempted murder couldn't be acknowledged as anything less in his book.

His thoughts rapidly turned to relief as each monitor quickly or slowly gave him the confirmation that each of his friends was actually still alive and seemed to be relatively alright, despite their circumstances.

Jack was the first person he identified, stuck in accommodations similar to his own. While Sam used the time he had alone to keep himself centered and calm, at least on the outside, Jack was a stark contrast. Almost immediately from the moment he woke up, he raged at the empty room, threw any object he could find against the glass and screamed at the lone blonde woman that continued to come and check on him. Dean had warned Sam about Jack's impetuousness and he had to figure that if it chose any moment to rear its head, this was that justifiable moment.

He next watched Sawyer as he came awake in what looked like an oversized animal cage. He was amused to watch the southern redneck try to figure out the mechanics inside of his cage in vain. His observations of Sawyer had given him the most hope as a young man in the cage across from him managed to escape from his cage and helped Sawyer escape from his before they'd both run in opposite directions. That hope had lasted less than ten minutes when the image showed the movement of two large men dragging Sawyer across the screen before they deposited him back into his enclosure.

As the hours slowly ticked by, his anxiety for Kate increased with each moment that none of the monitors showed her image. It wasn't until the day had very nearly concluded that he was finally rewarded for each agonizing moment as she was deposited into the now empty cage across from Sawyer, clad in a dress she hadn't been wearing upon their capture. She seemed sallow, meek and defeated as it looked like Sawyer tried to talk her up without success. Immediately, his mind conjured up every bad scenario she could have been subjected to from simple fear of an unknown situation to rape. His rage got the better of him at the latter thought and he had to force it and the bile that threatened to rise up his throat back down before he did anything he'd regret. Again.

He stared down at the untouched food tray where he had re-placed the cup from earlier just to get it out of his hands and clear the incident from his mind. That strategy hadn't worked and he still could only ask himself how that had even happened. There was no plausible explanation for it. Sam held up his hands and stared at his palms as if the answers would be written across his skin. He'd always been a little different, he'd felt it his entire life. Was this just more of the same? More of the more?

He let out a deep sigh and glanced back over at the monitors in time to watch as the blonde woman he kept seeing in Jack's cell appeared with another tray of food and briefly spoke with him about something. Sam stood up as the woman smiled triumphantly and moved to open the door to Jack's holding area as Jack used the opportunity presented to him and immediately bum rushed her.

"YES! Alright, Jack!" Sam shouted as he ran forward and practically pressed his face to the glass to get a better view. He could see the surprise and panic as it flew across the woman's face when Jack pressed a crude weapon to her neck and started to shout orders that Sam couldn't hear or make out. Holy shit, he was gonna get them out of here. Jack, the one person Sam wouldn't have counted on to save them.

He searched the bank of monitors frantically as Jack walked backwards out of the open door with the woman still clutched in front of him and exited the monitor he had been viewing him on along. He quickly appeared on another one that showed an empty corridor and pushed the woman in front of him towards a door before he started frantically pointing at it.

Even with a weapon held against her, the woman's face blanched in fear and she staunchly refused to do whatever Jack asked of her. This wasn't right. What was behind that door? The smile on Sam's face immediately dropped as another figure entered the monitor and Sam couldn't help the hatred that arose inside of him. Henry Gale. He doubted that was his real name…Alex had called him Ben. It didn't matter…whatever his name was, he had still orchestrated Michael's attack on Dean. He was the epitome of evil in Sam's eyes, and Sam hunted evil.

He spoke calmly to both the woman and Jack for several moments and it seemed like all three of them might be at a stalemate, before Jack pushed the woman out of the way and turned his attention to the door he had previously indicated. Sam's eyes widened as the woman and Henry both spun around and ran as quickly as they could from him in fear.

"NO! JACK! DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!" Sam banged his hands uselessly against the glass window in desperation as he saw Henry get out of the corridor and shut the door behind to effectively leave the woman and Jack to whatever horror would be unleashed. Jack barely paid them any attention as he finally opened the door and a rush of water flew into the room.

Sam's jaw dropped in shock. Oh, holy shit. They were underwater.

The hope that had built up inside of Sam sank along with his stomach as he turned away from the monitors and shook his head back and forth. They were trapped in some facility that was housed underwater. It had to be deep underwater too, for that much water to flood in so quickly. There was no way in hell that Dean would even think to check an underwater location to find him. He was well and truly trapped.

"Well, isn't this a sight to behold," a proud voice spoke up from behind him. Sam turned around to see an older man with a smug smile on his face stand before him with his arms crossed in front of him nonchalantly. "It seems like that fighter spirit that John instilled in you has finally died down."

Sam glanced back over at the monitors and was relieved to see that Jack and the woman had stopped the flow of water together, but she immediately used the opportunity of calm presented to her to punch him enough to knock him out. She stared down at his floating body for less than a few seconds before she turned him over and pulled him back into his cell.

Sam let out a sigh of relief before he turned to the smug man in front of him and crossed his own arms carelessly. "How do you know my dad's name?"

"Because, Sammy boy…he's spent the last few decades trying to hunt me down," the man informed him as his eyes flashed a quick yellow.

Sam's breath hitched and he backed up several steps in surprise until his back collided with the concrete wall. The demon...he was here. He'd been right all along, ever since the plane crash had stranded them on this island.

" _He's working with someone I've never seen before. His eyes are…"_

This is what Alex had been trying to warn him about. The yellow eyes. The demon's smile grew at Sam's unease as he spread his arms out wide in front of him. "How do you like your new digs? I couldn't have predicted that when we turned on these monitors for you that you'd get an actual demonstration of the fact that it isn't just concrete and glass keeping you trapped in here. There is an entire body of water out there to stop you and any escape attempts you might try."

Sam's jaw tightened in frustration as he thought back to the two escape attempts from their group that had already gone awry since they'd been captured. How was Dean even supposed to begin to look for them? The demon's smile grew as he nodded his head at the grim comprehension that dawned on Sam's face. "There it is. The complete understanding that you are trapped down here and there's nothing you can do about it. Even if Dean was still alive, he'd never be able to find you in an underwater station. The perfect prison."

Sam's eyes widened at the demon's statement before his face grew solemn and schooled his features into devastation. He slid down the concrete wall as the demon snickered at Sam's grief. "What do you want from me? You ruined my life. You killed everyone I love."

"The cost of doing business, kiddo," the demon shrugged down at him. "I mean, sweet little Jessica, she just had to die. You were all set to marry that little blonde thing, become a tax lawyer with two kids, a beer gut and a little McMansion in the suburbs. I needed you sharp, on the road, honing your skills. Your gifts. Gifts, might I add, that have recently been upgraded."

Sam tilted his head in confusion before his eyes fell on the crook of his arm, where the cotton ball had hidden the two needle marks from earlier. He had made that cup fly across the room with barely any thought. He'd had dreams before, but nothing physical had ever happened to him until now. "What did you do to me?"

The demon shrugged carelessly, again, as he turned and walked back towards the open door. "I've made you stronger. You were always my favorite and now there's nothing to stop us from working together whether you like or not." He smiled wide again and waved his fingers at Sam before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

It had always just been dreams or a strange feeling that guided Sam. He'd always known he was different. Now that he thought about it, he did feel stronger than before, the demon was definitely right about that. Sam's smile grew as he thought about his brother. Injured…but not dead. The demon seemed to think otherwise, which meant that Henry hadn't informed the demon of that new information.

This was their ace up the sleeve. Dean would be their salvation. If Sam truly was stronger now, if he had some sort of mojo to work for him, then he could try to tap into it and use it to his advantage. Maybe he'd be able to send Dean some sort of message…something not physical. If something was going on with his mind, even if it was fueled by the demon, then he would just take it and make it his own.

Somehow, he was gonna tell Dean exactly where they were.

 **Author's Note: This is a short one, mostly because it took some effort to get this chapter's ideas actually written out. This first chapter was very nearly written in Dean's perspective, but I didn't like it being before Sam's perspective, so…REWRITE. Before I was even done with "Swan Song Station", I knew that I wanted to call this story "My Brother's Keeper". Then, I'm doing some research just yesterday (for this story) on the Cain and Abel story in the bible and when God asks Cain where his brother is, his response is… "I know not: am I my brother's keeper?" I don't know why, but I got a huge kick out of it. Big thanks to thedarkpokemaster (x2), Guest, Zgirl101 (x2), auPHE, Archivist613 and TrappedInWonderland for your kind reviews for the end of Swan Song Station. I hope this story is received as well!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or LOST.**

Injuries were not an unusual experience for Dean Winchester. It came with the gig, as common as paper cuts probably did for a secretary. As a hunter, he'd had more head injuries than most NFL players, but he was a seasoned expert in pushing the pain and lethargy aside in order to finish whatever job he was on. He simply had no other choice. If he let little things like head injuries, broken bones or blood loss slow him down, he'd have shuffled off this mortal coil years ago. Dean Winchester was nothing if not a fighter and he had to figure that even when death finally tapped him on the shoulder, he would go down swinging and give the grim reaper a few battle scars to remember him by.

While most injuries may not have been an unusual experience, he wouldn't go so far as to admit that he was happy to have broken ribs and a concussion. It was moments like this, when there was nothing to hunt and nothing for him to focus his mind on that every thought he had hovered on the intense pain in his body. It hurt to do simple things like breathe and his head felt like it was so full of cotton that it forced grogginess on him to the point where he barely wanted to open his eyes. What he wanted had never really been a factor, though, so with a deep groan and a wince, he slowly cracked each eye open and surveyed the room in front of him. He tilted his head in confusion, closed his eyes back tightly and rubbed at them vigorously before he reopened them cautiously.

This wasn't right…this couldn't be right.

How was he back in the hatch when he could clearly remember that Charlie and Ana Lucia had practically been forced to carry him out of it?

He could hear the typical technical sounds that seemed to paint every corner of the hatch, even the bedroom where he was still laid out, but nothing else. He was alone down here. The feeling of complete turmoil and the white hot pain that he'd forced himself to move past as the hatch fell apart around him was still present in his mind, but his current location seemed to speak volumes otherwise. He remembered them, though. He remembered that despite the natural fear that came with being inside a crumbling underground building and the protesting sensations his body screamed at being forced to move so desperately, he'd been secretly pleased that the hatch would now be in accessible. Had that entire episode just been a vivid dream?

He casually took in the familiar furnishings of the bedroom before he glanced down at his own body in passing. He hadn't even considered it before this very moment, but his breathing felt normal and his head didn't hurt anymore. The pain was just suddenly gone. He gingerly placed his hands against his torso and pressed his fingers down with an expected wince before his face relaxed and he lifted his t-shirt. Nothing. The deep bruises that had marred his skin ever since he'd been shot were gone as well as the familiar tight dressing that concealed the broken ribs. "I'm healed."

No…this felt wrong. He felt wrong.

He let his shirt fall back down over his body and looked up at the room again as his eyes narrowed in dismay. He finally noticed how slowly his vision seemed to move in relation to his surroundings; it almost felt like he was a half second slower than everything else around him. Also, around the edges of his eyesight, it was fuzzy, like the cotton that he had previously felt inside of his head had leaked into his eyes instead. "Hello?!" His voice echoed around the bedroom, but it was now the only sound that he could make out. The regular beeps and hums from before had gradually faded away so that the hatch remained ominously quiet. "Is anybody else down here?"

Dean slowly stood up and walked out of the bedroom and into the main living area. He was caught completely off guard and barely had time to react to the scene before him as his blood began to boil in rage. Michael stood directly in front of him and stared him down, but his face was conflicted and his gaze seemed to look right through Dean. "What the hell are you doing back here, you son of a bitch?"

"Sawyer has all the guns?" Michael calmly responded to him. Dean's face screwed up in confusion and he tilted his head at the question. Sawyer didn't have any guns. What the hell was he talking about?

"Long story," a soft voice spoke up from behind Michael. Dean's breath hitched as he stepped further into the room and around Michael while the other man turned and faced Ana Lucia on the sofa. Her face was twisted in anguish as she stared down uselessly at the gun in her hands.

"At least he didn't get that one," Michael commented as he stepped further into the room and took a cautious seat on the sofa next to her.

"No, this is all wrong," Dean muttered in defiance as he shook his head from side to side. "Ana wasn't down here for this. I was down here. Michael shot me."

"Yeah," Ana Lucia whispered, but Dean knew that it wasn't in response to his panicked denial. "Too bad I can't use it."

"Use it on what?" Michael asked her.

"We caught one of them…the Others. He's locked up in there." She looked up from the gun and nodded over at the vault door behind him as Michael glanced back at it over his shoulder. Dean could practically see the wheels grinding together in the other man's head and felt sick to his stomach about the turn of events in front of him. He had to fix this…now. He wouldn't let Michael hurt someone that he…

Dean's eyes widened at the direction his thoughts had drifted off to. Holy shit, had he just been ready to admit to himself that he loved Ana Lucia? Sure, he'd met her before the plane crash and helped her out with a shifter problem, but that had just been a part of his job. As a hunter, he'd have done that for anybody.

 _Yeah, but would you have stayed behind and missed Sam's mock trial for just anybody, though?_

Dean grimaced and wanted nothing more than to throttle his inner self. Yes, after he'd killed the shifter, he'd had every intention of high-tailing it straight to Palo Alto, but something about Ana Lucia had derailed his plans. One moment she'd been completely numb to everything that had happened, but then almost immediately her stance had shifted to near hysterics.

Admittedly, Dean wasn't a very good person to have around with a hysterical person, especially when that person was a woman. There was something about her, though, that made the thought of leaving her while she was so vulnerable unappetizing. The only thing he could think to do was bring her to the bar near his motel for what would have been his regular post-hunt celebration. He'd purchased the first round of drinks and she had spilled her guts to him about the bastard that shot her while she was on duty and subsequently murdered her unborn child. The shifter in another's man's form.

After that first drink, she'd insisted on buying every round after until they were both too drunk to continue and they, instead, retreated to Dean's motel room for a few rounds of sloppy, drunken and amazing sex; not even Sam knew about that. Afterwards, while she slept, Dean packed up his few meager belongings, paid for an additional night in the room for Ana Lucia and then left without leaving a note, an explanation or even his name. There had been a few times since then that he'd thought of her. Thought of her words when she'd told him about her situation that led up to her actions that night. Thought about how perfectly her body molded against his as he woke up and had to force himself to leave without speaking another word to her. Thought about how bizarre it was that a plane crash had reunited them and since that moment, she, Sam and Sawyer had been the only people on the island that he even wanted to put up with. If he didn't completely love her now, then he was well on his way to that conclusion and he'd be damned if he let anybody take her away from him now.

"How long has he…?" Michael interrupted his thoughts.

Dean pushed himself to move forward, to do anything to fix this altered situation, but his body suddenly wouldn't comply. His mouth wouldn't open or close in order for him to issue a warning and his eyes wouldn't even blink or get dry from the lack of movement as the scene played out torturously before him. The only thing that was still within his control were his thoughts…his panicked and agonized thoughts.

"It's been over a week, now," Ana Lucia told him.

"And you're what…taking care of him?"

Dean was forced to watch as Ana Lucia's features twisted from despair into rage and he wanted nothing more than to take a step back from the monstrous look on her face. "He tried to kill me today, so I wanted him dead," she explained to him. No, this wasn't her. Ana Lucia had begged him not to take any drastic measures when it came to Henry and he hadn't listened to her warnings. Despite what she said and what she thought of herself, Dean knew that she was too compassionate to murder somebody for revenge. Her one moment that would prove otherwise had led to a creature rather than a man and she hadn't even managed to kill it. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't even kill him. I looked at him and he…I can't do this anymore."

Relief flooded Dean's paralyzed chest as Michael turned to Ana Lucia with a look of grim determination. "Then let me do it," he told her in a rush. "They're animals. I've seen these people and they are animals. They took my son…right out of my hands…they took my son and…I'll do it. Give me the gun. I'll kill him."

Dean had to hand it to Michael; he was an amazing actor. His words to Ana Lucia were almost a mirror copy of what he'd said to Dean to gain his trust and his weapon before he turned on him and shot him instead. He watched in horror as Ana Lucia reluctantly handed over her gun and Michael stood to walk away from her as he stared down at it in anguish. The son of a bitch was gonna do it again, only this time he was gonna shoot Ana Lucia and Dean would be forced to watch.

"What's the combination?"

"Eighteen right, one left, thirty one right," Ana Lucia informed him, her voice laced with guilt.

Michael looked down at the gun for a moment longer before he nodded his head in resignation. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Dean knew it was coming, had born witness to it in real time and, therefore, knew that this wasn't reality. This was some depraved and distorted version of the world that his mind had conjured up for some unknown and sick reason. Logic told him that he was still badly injured from being shot, but it didn't matter because Ana Lucia was alive and perfectly fine. Still, it physically hurt to watch Michael spin around and unload a single bullet straight into Ana Lucia's chest. It hurt to watch the pained shock cross her beautiful features as she stared down at the bloody hole in her shirt. It hurt worst of all to watch the vivacious light leave her eyes as her head slumped to the side and she quietly passed away. His mind felt all of the rage that his body wouldn't allow him to express as Michael kept his gaze fixed on the gun in his hands. "Now you know that I would have done anything to get my son back. You're all just collateral damage in my eyes."

Dean's eyes snapped over to Michael and his mind reeled back in shock as the other man stared right at him with a mixture of pity, guilt and determination written across his face. "I didn't want this to happen, but it was all of you or Walt. Tell me you would have chosen any differently."

Dean's body jolted forward as he regained his ability to move and speak while the rage that had been kept prisoner in his mind washed completely over him. Before he could move forward to exact his sweet revenge, a sharp pain like he had never experienced shot through his head and his knees hit the concrete floor while a barrage of images cascaded across his eyes.

Sam stabbed in the back as Dean cried out in torment and ran towards him.

Sam's lifeless body laid out across a motel bed as Dean shouted into the empty room for guidance.

Dean standing in anguish at a four way crossroad, right before he knelt down and buried a box in the pebbled dirt.

A woman with red eyes and a smug smile.

 _"_ _Let me guess, you're offering up your own soul?"_

 _"_ _There are a hundred other demons that would love to get their hands on it…and, it's all yours. All you gotta do is bring Sam back. You give me ten years. Ten years and then you come for me."_

"You see, Dean, in a different world…in different circumstances, you'd be willing to sell your own soul for Sam and you know it. Tell me you wouldn't also commit murder if you had to," Michael snarked down at him. "You think I'm the only monster here, but you're just as bad as me. You have to understand that on this island, we're all monsters. The only difference is that at least I can admit it."

His eyes flashed a vibrant yellow and Dean backed away from him, shaking his head back and forth in disagreement. He looked past Michael's twisted face to see Ana Lucia's lifeless eyes as they stared straight down at the ground. This wasn't right. This wasn't right.

Just as Dean began to lose control of himself and accept this twisted dream as reality, Sam materialized before him, his eyes wide in shock as he stared down at his own hands. He looked up and yelled out for his brother, but no words came out. Dean could only translate the panicked movement of his mouth as he screamed his name. "Sam?"

Dean moved towards him just as he flickered out and before he had any time to process what was happening, the hatch drifted away from him and his eyes shot open. He immediately shot up from his bedroll and regretted the action just as quickly. The pain in his head and midsection anchored him to the real world as he gritted his teeth and slowly breathed in and out. Ana Lucia rushed to his side and tried to restrain him while he did his best to fight her off.

"Dean, stop…you have to calm down!"

He took a moment to glance up at her face, flushed from her exertion, but alive nonetheless and almost reached out to caress her cheek before his brother's anguished and silent cries lit up his memory. "No, let me up," he grit out. "Where's Sam? I have to talk to Sam."

* * *

Hurley lived his life with the philosophy in mind that everybody fit into a specific mold and that society expected each person to embrace that mold. Take him for example. While he felt that he was a pretty good person, he knew that he wasn't anybody really special and probably never would be. He was fine with that; for most of his life, he'd embraced his given lot without complaint. Even when the bad things had begun to happen to his family after receiving the cursed lottery money, he'd accepted it in stride while still attempting to find some answers and a solution to his predicament. It's not that he enjoyed working at a fried chicken joint or being overweight or being the punching bag of anybody with a slightly better outlook on life, but who was he to argue with providence?

While he knew and embraced his role in the grand scheme of things, one thing he wasn't particularly fond of was the level of his own insignificance, but it was just another situation in a long line of situations that he had no control over. It wasn't that he wanted to be a prisoner of the people on this island, but why was he the one that they'd chosen to deliver their message of warning back to his group? What was it about him that made it so clear that he wasn't a necessary part of whatever their plans were, but Jack, Sawyer, Sam and Kate were too important to let go?

Even with that helpless thought in the back of his mind, he knew he wasn't in any position to change his circumstances. Already, on this frantic hike back to the beach camp, he'd run into Locke and Charlie and pleaded with them for help after he explained everything that had happened with The Others. As predicted, they both brushed him off in response before Locke half-heartedly instructed him to continue back to the beach instead and get help there. While he was incredulous at such treatment, he was also still terrified enough that The Others would find him, so he grudgingly heeded Locke's advice and continued onward.

In truth, Hurley had never run so much in his entire life; his size was a testament to that statement. Unwanted, his mind kept conjuring up images of being recaptured or shot in the back or walking head-first into a trap; each thought worse than the previous one. Those images kept him quickly moving forward despite the fact that he was covered in sweat and his lungs felt like they were on fire. If the pseudo-leader of the island when Jack was gone didn't want to help him, then he was sure Dean would do something when he found out that Sam and Sawyer had both been taken. That grim determination kept him going, like a man on a mission.

That was until he heard the rustling in the wall of trees before him and stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart rate sped up and he worked to control the fear that raced up his spine as his own suspicions ran wild in his head. They'd found him. They were gonna take him back and do horrible things to him. He picked up a thick branch from the ground and held it out in front of him like a bat, prepared to defend himself against the crazy people that had foolishly let him go if he had to.

"Bear?" He cleared his throat in an effort to mask how much his voice shook with fear and squared his shoulders as best as he could. "Is that you?" He heard a sudden snap behind him and spun around to face that noise with as much courage as he could muster. "Who's there?"

"Are you alone, brother?" An accented voice spoke up from behind the bushes.

Hurley lowered the branch in his hands and relaxed slightly as he recognized the voice that had spoken to him. He knew that voice...he'd definitely heard it before. "Uh, yeah."

Desmond slowly stood up from the brush, naked as the day he was born with his hands held out helplessly at his sides. "Whoa! Dude!" Hurry quickly turned away from him and held his hand out over Desmond's…parts…so he wouldn't accidently catch a glance. "I'm not alone!"

Desmond let out a defeated sigh and nodded over his shoulder to the left. "Beach camp's right over there. Do you think you can get me some clothes?"

"What happened to yours?" Hurley asked, his hand still held up and his head turned away from him.

"I woke up in the jungle like this."

Hurley's face scrunched up in confusion as he turned to face Desmond but kept his eyes averted as best as he could. "So, like, the hatch blew off your underwear?" He asked in disbelief.

"Fine," Desmond snapped in exasperation as he stomped towards Hurley in anger, his own nudity forgotten. Hurley, however, was all too aware of just how naked Desmond was as he came closer and closer and Hurley quickly shuffled away from him. "You wanna discuss this in great detail right now?! Let's do it."

"No, no, that's okay," Hurley reiterated. He stopped and held out his hand to stop the other man before he crouched down to rummage around in his backpack. "I've got something in here." He pulled out a t-shirt, quickly smelled it and nodded in satisfaction before he offered it up to Desmond. "How do you feel about tie-dye?"

The desperate look on Desmond's face melted away as he took the proffered shirt and held it up to himself. He chuckled slightly at the realization that the shirt would swim on his smaller frame before he shrugged his shoulders and moved to put it on with a gracious smile.

* * *

"What do you mean that he's gone?" Dean asked as calmly as he could. He felt like such a chick, but his emotions had been on a roller coaster ever since he'd woken up from his bizarre dream. He was relieved and overjoyed that Ana Lucia was alive and well in front of him, but then his brother's flickering image would pounce across his vision and that relief would instantly turn to nervous anger.

The dream itself, Sam excluded, was weird enough. The first problem he had been shown a scene of Ana Lucia being shot by Michael instead of him. What did that even mean? Then, the images of Sam being stabbed and him negotiating with some kind of red-eyed demon gave him pause. He'd never encountered a demon with red eyes before. How many different colored eyes did those bastards have and what did each color mean? Finally, to have Michael's eyes flash yellow at him, it felt like his childhood and hunting life were bleeding into his existence on this island and he didn't like it one bit.

Especially when he took into account that he couldn't exactly vouch for Sam's well-being. He and his brother definitely did the one step forward and two steps back better than anyone he knew.

Sam had looked just as shocked as Dean felt in his dream right before he called out for him in vain. Something strange was going on and he believed that Sam being gone had a good portion to do with whatever it was.

Ana Lucia breathed in deeply through her nose and released it slowly through her mouth before she held up her hands in surrender. "Look, I wish I could tell you more, but I don't know all of the specifics. I knew you'd be curious when you woke up, so I asked around and from what I was able to gather, he went out on a hike with Jack, Sawyer, Kate and Hurley."

"He's hiking?" Dean asked incredulously. He gingerly moved himself to an upright position and held up a hand to stop Ana Lucia when she moved forward to assist him. She rolled her eyes at his stubbornness and waited until he got situated before she relaxed again, but even then, the look on his face kept her body tense. "You're actually telling me that while I'm this injured, he decided to go out on a hike?" She nodded her head sheepishly with a wince as he narrowed his eyes up at her. She remained stoic in front of him for several moments before the scrutiny became too much and she visibly deflated. "What aren't you telling me, Ana?"

"Ok, first of all, you should know that I got all of this information from a third party," she rambled nervously. "It's not like Sam even thought that he should run anything by me before he decided to traipse off into the jungle and…"

"ANA!"

She jumped at the volume of Dean's voice as he interrupted her rant and let out a deep sigh before she closed her eyes tightly. "They're all out looking for Michael and Henry?" She said it as if she were testing the water and Dean's annoyance doubled as his vision flooded with red. Sam actually left him without a single word while he took off to find Michael. For what? Revenge? Dean knew the desire for revenge better than anyone. If it had been Sam in the hatch at the moment that Michael decided to make his move and shot him instead, there wouldn't be a safe place on this island for him to hide. Hell, fictional Michael that shot Ana Lucia in his dream should have been scared of him, even in his injured state. Still, he couldn't imagine that he'd just leave Sam unconscious while he left to take care of his own vengeful needs, would he?

He clenched his jaw as he tried to reign in his emotions. It wasn't Ana Lucia's fault that Sam was a grade-A asshole and he didn't need to take it out on her either. He wouldn't take it out on her. "How long have they been gone?" He carefully asked. Ana Lucia's eyes snapped open to meet his as she took in how carefully neutral he kept his face to match his tone of voice while a look of shock flooded across her features. "How long exactly have I been unconscious?"

"It's just been about a day," Ana Lucia tried to reassure him. She winced when Dean's eyes widened before he closed them and sagged back against his bedroll in defeat.

He placed his forearm over his eyes and lay still while Ana Lucia squirmed in front of him. It unnerved her to witness Dean look so defeated, mostly because she didn't know what she could do to help him, and she desperately wanted to help him. During the majority of their time since the plane crash, Dean and Sam had been separated and doing what they could to find each other again. It couldn't be easy for Dean to have his brother be absent after all of that, especially when he was so helpless at the moment. "Ok, I get that there's nothing I can do about Sam while I'm like this," he reluctantly admitted as he motioned over his body with his other hand. "This is worse than an arrow in the shoulder, so as much as I hate it, I know I just have to take it easy and ride this out until I'm healed." He lifted the arm off of his eyes as Ana Lucia silently nodded her head in agreement. "What I'd like to know, though, is what happened while we were in the hatch?"

Ana Lucia opened her mouth and then closed it before she took a seat next to him on his bedroll and placed a comforting hand over his. "I really don't know," she confessed. "It was terrifying, Dean, the whole ordeal. It seemed like the entire place was about to blow up, so once Charlie and I got you out of there, we ran so we could get as far away from ground zero as possible. Do you remember that?"

"I tripped," Dean nodded his head in confirmation before he cleared his throat against the lump that had formed. "I tripped and since you two were helping me, we all went down. After that, I remember a sharp whistling sound and a really bright light. Everything else is just fuzzy."

"Well, there was a bright light and that noise, but it was quick…like almost instant," Ana Lucia explained to him as she snapped her fingers. "I have no idea what it was or what caused it, but when I opened my eyes, the sky was blue again and I heard birds chirping, like nothing had happened. The first thing I did was sit up and go to check on you."

Dean smiled at her admission and was touched that she cared enough about him to check on him immediately before she even worried about herself. "You were unconscious, so I put your head in my lap just as Charlie called for me back at the hatch...or rather, where the hatch used to be."

"Charlie went back to the hatch?" Dean asked in confusion before he sat up straighter, his eyes wide. "Hold on, what do you mean, 'where the hatch used to be'?"

She smiled wanly as the penny went up in the air and landed seconds later before she let out a deep and tired sigh. "Dean, the hatch is gone," she explained to him carefully. His brow furrowed at the information as he shook his head. "There's a crater at the sight that looks like the whole thing either imploded or exploded. Charlie went back over there after we left because he was worried."

Dean somehow managed to swallow down his shock as he nodded his head for her to continue. "Ok, and why was Charlie worried?"

"When we left, Eko was still down in the hatch with Locke."

Dean sat back up and stared into Ana Lucia's eyes with as much seriousness as he could gather. It didn't take much, considering the amount of grim news he had been privy to since he'd woken up. "Has anyone seen either of them since this all went down?" He asked.

Ana Lucia shook her head as Dean's eyes left hers and he overwhelmingly hung his head before he shook it in disbelief. The hatch was gone, Eko and Locke were missing and the main people in leadership roles on their side were off on a vengeance hike. What in the hell was Dean supposed to do with any of that?

* * *

With enough of his body covered by Hurley's massive t-shirt, Desmond strolled through the jungle towards the beach camp like he didn't have a care in the world. He practically floated. This was the attitude of a man that had just stared death right in the face and walked away with nothing but a case of nudity. Even this walk through the jungle, which would have normally annoyed him, was the best time he'd had recently. The air was humid and smelled of the saltwater that was nearby while the sun beat warmly down on him. Hurley followed closely behind him and kept up as best as he could while he listened to Desmond cheerfully recount the tale of how he'd managed to end up unconscious and naked on the jungle floor.

"So, when you say "turn the key" you mean like a key, key?" Hurley asked after Desmond finished his explanation. Even Desmond, who was too grateful to be alive to really be bothered about anything, could hear the skepticism in his voice and just brushed it off.

"It was a failsafe key," he corrected him.

Hurley processed that information and nodded his head in understanding before he shrugged off the explanation. "That seems kind of convenient."

Desmond paused for the first time since he'd dressed and turned around to fix Hurley with a contemptuous look. Was he serious? Desmond had had every intention of dying in that hatch to 'save the world' and now he was getting sarcastic remarks for that action? "I'm sorry?"

Hurley shifted his attention from the jungle floor in enough time to stop before he plowed straight into Desmond. He fidgeted under the intense gaze directed at him and, once again, shrugged his shoulders impassively. "I'm just saying…if you had this magic key the whole time why didn't you, like, use it before now?"

"I didn't know what would happen," Desmond responded before he turned around and continued his march through the jungle. Hurley watched him for a moment in contemplation before he caught himself and rushed to follow after him.

"So, what did happen?"

"The failsafe key must have detonated the electromagnetic anomaly," Desmond reasoned and moved his hands around in time to his words. He glanced back over his shoulder at Hurley and smirked at the lost look on his face before he turned back to face the direction he was walking and shook his head. "It, uh…made the hatch implode."

"Good riddance," Hurley muttered under his breath. Ever since he'd first seen those cursed numbers on the hatch door, he'd steered clear of that place. Something was wrong with that whole area and if its total destruction and the destruction of Desmond's clothes didn't hammer that point home, he didn't know what would. But, just like today, he'd issued a warning and nobody had listened to him. Well, almost nobody…he had it on good authority that Dean hated that hatch just as much as he did. "Hey, but, you didn't implode."

Desmond couldn't help but chuckle at Hurley's obvious observation. He had noticed that the implosion had left him perfectly intact minus his clothing. He had to figure that if his continued existence meant a few moments of nudity, he was the last person to look that sort of gift horse in the mouth. Still, it did raise the question of how an entire steel and concrete structure could be destroyed, but his skin and bones body was completely fine. "No, I didn't," Desmond agreed wistfully.

Hurley stopped and watched Desmond in disbelief as the other man noticed his lack of a shadow and turned around to face him. He was not prepared for the pensive look on the other man's face and tilted his head in confusion as Hurley steeled himself to speak. "You're not going to, like, turn into the Hulk, or something, right?"

A full bellied laugh escaped Desmond's mouth as he bent forward and held his sides while he did his best to shake his head NO at Hurley in order to reassure him that the electromagnetic activity he'd been exposed to was probably much different than gamma radiation. In all honesty, who the hell knew what would happen to him? You didn't survive a blast like that and walk away completely unscathed. If he grew a tail or suddenly qualified to join the X-Men, he'd know what the cause was. "So, is that what made the blender noise…and the sky turn purple?"

Desmond's laughter died down long enough to grace Hurley with a confused glance before he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm afraid I missed that, brother."

"Right, you were failsafing," Hurley barked out, almost like an accusation. The remaining mirth on Desmond's face melted away at Hurley's tone as the other man stepped up to him so they were almost chest to chest. "Well, FYI, the whole island vibrated. And Kate and Jack and Sawyer and Sam saw it, too, right before they got bags pulled over their heads. And the best part is, nobody will listen to me about our friends being taken prisoner, because why should anybody listen to silly old Hurley? What could I possibly know about anything?"

Desmond smiled tightly at Hurley and reached forward to pat him comfortingly on the shoulder. "I'll listen to you, brother. I just don't know how much help I can be to get them back. I wouldn't worry, though. Dean and Locke are gonna go after them. Dean said so in his speech…well, after he sucker punched Locke. That was brilliant, by the way, if I do say so myself."

"Wait…what speech?" Hurley asked in confusion. "Dude, Locke wouldn't even listen to me earlier when I told him about what happened and while I know Dean probably would, he got shot. So, if we take the time to really pour through your scenario, we have one guy that's too injured to do anything and another one that doesn't give a monkey's butt about anything but his Zen trips. Plus, it sure didn't look like Locke had been punched by anyone when I saw him last."

Desmond's eyes narrowed at Hurley's information before he paled and then shook his head. "Right. Right, of course. I'm sorry. I'm just a bit shook up." He turned and continued to walk towards the beach as Hurley watched him curiously for a moment before he moved to follow after him again.

* * *

Towards the end of the day, Dean was grateful for the few moments Ana Lucia left him alone in his tent so she could prepare some food for him. He normally wouldn't have had any problem with a hot girl playing nursemaid to him, but this wasn't a situation that he really got to enjoy. His mind just wouldn't shut up for two seconds. Every worst case scenario had played through his thoughts and with each moment, each scenario got worse and worse.

He timidly sat up from his bedroll and leaned forward as the pain in his chest intensified slightly. It hurt, but he could feel that it wasn't crippling. His breathing was shallow, yes, but he'd been hurt far worse than this and still managed to get into the Impala and drive her across the country. Hell, he'd learned to sew wounds up with dental floss and clean them with vodka. A few broken ribs shouldn't keep him down as long as he didn't push himself too hard and make his injuries worse.

He leaned forward again to test his strength and found the pain steady but manageable. He could do this. Manageable meant that he wasn't crippled by the ache. He turned to the side and pulled his legs in so that they were underneath him and sat for a few moments on his knees in order to get his bearings. This was gonna work. He was gonna be able to…

"What in the hell are you doing?" Ana Lucia snapped as she stepped back into his tent and rushed towards him.

CRAP!

He held up a hand to stop her and flashed her a frustrated look instead. "Please, don't pull that shit with me," he pleaded. "I'm injured, not dead and I can't spend the entire time that I'm injured in this tent on my back. I really can't. So, I'm gonna get up and start to try to get some movement back into my body. Being bedridden didn't help me at all when it came time to flee from the hatch, and I'm sorry but I won't be put in another situation like that, I don't care what Jack said about my movement."

Ana Lucia listened to his entire rant while her body remained as taut as a guitar string. She could give him this bit of independence, it's the kind of person that Dean was, but she was ready in case he fell or needed help. She'd just have to wait for him to ask for it instead of offering it up herself. She knew that much about him. She watched as he slowly crawled to his feet and stood up fully just before a painful moan fell from his lips. It made her stomach tighten to hear him in pain, but she could see how pleased he was with himself that he had stood up and wouldn't have wanted to take that away from him for anything.

"Well, would you look at that," Dean grinned down at his body before he looked up and turned his joy onto Ana Lucia. "Clark Kent sheds his glasses and Superman emerges." He tucked a hand against his midsection and took a few steps forward to test his strength before he nodded his head acquiesce. "And now, if you would be so kind as to join me on a walk around the beach…" Dean offered as he held out his arm gallantly. There it was. That was Dean in a nutshell. He requested help in a way that sounded like he was asking you on a date instead. She loved that about him. Her eyes widened at her train of thought and she quickly brushed it off as she stepped forward and looped her arm through his, not even commenting when he leaned heavier than normally into her while they both exited his tent.

The sun was just beginning to set behind the ocean water, but Dean was more concerned with the chaotic scene that greeted them. Several people were gathered in a group several yards away and heading towards a tent at the end of the beach as they all tried to speak over each other.

"What in the hell?" Ana Lucia murmured.

"Hey, man, what's going on?" Dean grabbed the elbow of a passing man and nodded over at the commotion.

The man stopped and studied Dean and Ana Lucia critically for a moment before he dismissively nodded his head towards where Dean had indicated. "Charlie and Locke just brought Eko back from the jungle. He's unconscious," he informed them in a heavily accented voice. He didn't even wait for them to digest the information before he took off behind a young blonde woman and stayed at her heels.

Dean glanced down at Ana Lucia and shrugged before he shuffled them both forward towards everything, proud of himself that he was able to swallow down the latent pain in his midsection so easily and move somewhat normally. Still, he didn't like what was going on. First, Jack was gone and then to find out that Locke and Eko had been inside the hatch when it imploded, it made him nervous that there wasn't anybody still around to lead this group of people that so desperately craved leadership. The closer they got to the commotion, the more Dean could make out individual voices. "We need Jack," he heard the young woman in front of him state loudly enough for the entire group to hear, which proved his point spectacularly.

At the front of the uproar, Dean could see Locke, alive and well, as he pointed to a shelter and instructed Charlie to bring Eko inside. Dean paled as he noticed that Eko was indeed unconscious. How was Eko unconscious but Locke seemed perfectly fine? "Jack's not coming back," Hurley spoke up from behind everyone. The entire group, Dean and Ana Lucia included, turned back to face Hurley as his face slacked grimly at the attention on him. He met Dean's eyes first above everyone else and graced him with a furrowed brow. "They've got him."

Everybody started to speak at once and peppered Hurley with questions as the knot in Dean's stomach grew with each passing moment and his breathing slowed in a way that had nothing to do with his broken ribs. If somebody had Jack, then that meant that they had Sam and Sawyer as well. This couldn't be happening. Locke leaned heavily on the entrance to Eko's shelter and watched the crowd for a moment before he stepped out onto the beach towards them.

"THEY are the Others," Locke announced as he commanded the attention of each person in their group. "And, yes, they've taken Jack, and Kate and Sawyer." He paused and graced Dean with a grim look before he let out a deep sigh. "…and Sam."

"You son of a bitch," Dean shouted and hobbled towards him. He sucked in a pained breath as the accented man he had spoken to before stepped in front of him and stopped his progress as Dean fought against him in order to get closer to Locke. "How long have you known about this, you dick? How long did you sit on this information and do yoga poses instead?" He was vaguely aware of Ana Lucia behind him as she tried to calm him down, but every protest around him just sounded like white noise in his ears.

"Dean, he's only known for a few hours," Hurley told him as he entered his line of sight and tentatively placed a comforting hand on his shoulder to try to calm him down. "The Others captured all of us but they let me go so I could come back here and warn our side to stay away."

Dean's anger grew at Hurley's words as he violently shrugged his hand off of his shoulder. "What do you mean a few hours?" He hissed. "Why are we just now finding out about this?"

Hurley's eyes widened as he held up his hands in surrender and backed away from Dean. "Excuse me that I'm not Jack and nobody listens to me. I tried to tell Charlie and Locke what happened, but they brushed me off and told me to come back to the beach instead, so I did. Along the way, I found Desmond and helped him get back here." Hurley pointed out towards the water where Desmond stood in a ridiculously large tie-dyed shirt and threw pebbles into the ocean like he didn't have a care in the world.

Dean glanced back over at Locke's authoritative face as his anger rose even higher. This was just like Locke. He'd forced them into that hatch and then tried to force Jack to press the button. He kept trying to force his will on the other people in their group and explain it away as divine intervention. He was sick of Locke playing puppet master to everybody from their crash. The second it put his brother in harm's way, it became a game of fire and gasoline and Dean was gonna put an end to it right now.

He used the momentary solemnity from Hurley's declaration to his advantage and shoved past the few people that stood between him and Locke before he reached back and landed a heavy blow to his jaw. Locke crumpled to the ground and cradled his face in pain as Dean did his best to hold back the grimace that threatened to surface as his own body's pain roared to life. He'd just told himself not to push too hard and one second around Locke threw that notion away. If anybody on this island besides Michael and Henry could do that to him, Locke would have been his best bet. He recovered quickly and towered over the other man as he stared up at Dean in shock. "Once again, you're making decisions for the rest of us and we have to pay for it. I know what happened in that hatch. When you decided that the button had to stop being pushed and Eko decided to take over instead, you didn't like that and locked everyone out of the console room. If you had just stepped off of your high horse for two seconds, none of this would have happened."

"What about Sun and Jin and Sayid?" Claire's voice broke over the awkward silence that had settled around them. "Are they okay?"

"I don't know," Locke spoke up as she pushed himself up from the sand and spit out a wad of blood and spit. "I'm going to find our friends."

"Screw that," Dean shouted. "I'm gonna find them." Locke stared Dean down and body checked him as he silently pointed out his injuries. "Oh screw you, Doctor Doolittle. Even if I am injured, I'm a better bet than you because I don't count on spirits and karma to lead my movements. You practically forced all of us into that hatch and to push that damned button and the second that you feel differently about it, you force everybody out so it can detonate. And it did detonate." He sneered over at him one last time before he slowly moved around to face the rest of the group. "Once I get all of the information available that I can, we'll need to get a plan together. WE need to get a plan together, because while Jack may like saying things like 'live together, die alone' his actions have never reinforced that. The people on this island stole our people from us and then sent one person back with a message to stay away. They may as well have just dropped the nuke on Japan with that crap, because they just declared war. The days of us flying blind are done. We're gonna do this as a group and we're gonna get our people back. However, before we do that, we all need to work together and stop worrying so much about our own selves. You," Dean pointed over to the man he had spoken with earlier and the girl next to him. "Names?"

"Nicki," the girl told him. "And this is Paulo."

Dean nodded his head as the guy shot the girl an angry look at her admission. "Right. Nicki and Paulo, please bring some towels and water. Claire, would you mind gathering up some first aid supplies so we can get Eko cleaned up in the absence of our doctor?"

Claire and Nicki nodded their heads in agreement and turned to leave as Paulo placed his hands on his hips and scoffed. "Just who made you our leader, here? Why should we take orders from you or wait for any plans you come up with? You're too injured to do anything anyways."

Dean chuckled sardonically at Paulo's attitude and stepped towards him until they were practically nose to nose. "You'll soon learn, Fernando, that I could have both arms ripped off and a bone sticking out of my leg and I'd still manage to get to my brother. It doesn't hurt that those bastards also have one of my good friends," he told him. "Trust me when I say that was a big mistake and you usually don't wanna be the thing or person that makes a big mistake with me." He watched the man for a few seconds to ensure that his words sank in before he turned and walked over to Hurley just as Charlie joined them.

"Hey mate, I'm sorry for my part in dismissing Hurley, here," Charlie told him as Dean shook his head in irritation but still waved him off. "Not for nothing, but that wasn't a bad speech."

"Whoa!" Hurley muttered as both men turned and regarded him curiously.

"Whoa, what?" Charlie asked.

Hurley glanced further down the beach towards Desmond where he still stood at the edge of the water and threw pebbles into the ocean, oblivious to the other people and emotions around him. "I just got hit with, you know, déjà vu.

Dean and Charlie both wryly followed Hurley's gaze to Desmond and back to Hurley before Dean patted him on the shoulder with a grin and hobbled over towards Desmond. If he was remembering correctly, it hadn't only been Eko and Locke left in the hatch when it imploded. Since Eko was currently incapacitated and he trusted Locke just about as far as he could throw him, his only other source for answers was a man that he barely knew. But, he'd make do. He was a con-man through and through and that meant he could charm even the most cautious person into divulging what he needed from them.

"He's definitely a clean slate," Dean murmured to himself as he stepped to the side of Desmond and waited for him to finish with his last stone before he turned his attention to him.

"The snowman expert," Desmond greeted him with an unimpressed look. "What can I do for you, brother?"

Dean smiled at the subtle reminder of their first meeting as he nodded over to his own tent. "Since we're probably about the same size, how about I get you a decent change of clothes from my bags while you explain to me what happened down in that hatch and where you've been hiding out this entire time."

 **Author's Note: Why did this chapter give me such grief? I think this story is gonna be the red headed stepchild of this series, because I keep having a decent time getting the outline together and then as I go back to rewrite each chapter…BLOCK! I will say this though, after each chapter is FINALLY done, I'm particularly pleased with how the writing turned out, so that's gotta count for something. Mucho thanks to Zgirl101, Calen, thedarkpokemaster, Guest and Endgame65 for taking the time to review the last chapter. I hope this one is enjoyed as well!**


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